THIEF OF BREAN (VOL-1)|✓

A DECEPTIVE DIMENSION- XLIV

It was darkening swiftly and they had not been able to find any sign of a water source yet.

"See something?" Giles asked Carl.

Carl peered through the spyglass. "More trees."

There were no animals in sight, not even the Mangalitsa which were known to be very common in the region. The herds moving to the water sources in the dark hours would have made their quest a lot easier. But it was just the tress thronging with chattering finches.

They wandered clueless through the groves. Even though it had stopped snowing long ago, the temperature was dropping at the double. And as they pushed on, the young Sentinels passed on the spyglass within themselves, desperate to find something in between the greens that the rest could not. However, no one had turned lucky.

"They say the Ghost trees glow in the dark?" One of the Sentinels butted in the middle of a conversation on how they would handle an ice-storm.

"Just like a ghost," another said.

"They say the trees are the ghosts of dead Gree."

"Bullshit," Lamont snapped, without looking at them. He kept his face to the ground all the time. One would think he was searching something. But if you managed a closer look, you could not help but think if he was actually hiding something. Naturally, Carl was curious about the man at first. But his withdrawn attitude had bored him overtime.

It was exhausting for Carl. However, his mind did not want any rest. He was thinking of too many things at a time. Presently, he was trying to make sense out of Rhett's new plan to save the day if at all they were unable find the creek.

As per his plan, if they were going to rest for the night empty-handed, they'd make some fire to grab the attention of the ring. In usual practise the mafia rings got active during the night hours. When that happened they were hoping to get the ring come to them instead of going the other way round.

"How can you be so sure about that?" Carl asked him.

"Because that is one way how new and small rings form alliances. One hears another and moves to look if they were compatible. Or sometimes a syndicate would send a bunch of their own members to lure the other group in order to expand their numbers."

"You think they wouldn't know this to be a trap."

"They still think their existence is unknown."

"But they'd on alert after Aud Bigge messed up with Lily Freeman," Giles added.

"So, do you have a better idea than this?" Rhett frowned. Giles let it go with a shrug.

Lamont looked hard at Carl and Giles. "You do understand that this could become a cold case in all its likelihood," he voice was flat. "This could be your only chance to get those felons."

Carl scrunched his nose. "And you are convinced that this is not a ring from the Vulture syndicate?" he went a bit curt on Rhett this time.

"Trust me, Detective, I work in state security and I know how these things look. This is surely a newbie ring prone to make some mistakes. And even if they were associated with a syndicate it wouldn't stop them from showing up themselves to another ring... and then, we'll say them that we have a deal for them."

"Rings get allied when they have lucrative deals to crack," Lamont added.

They continued on. The sundown had increased the snow flurries. Crisp wind whistled from the peaks at the faraway East and showered snow every once in a while. After about twenty minutes of wandering for the water source in the crest, they had settled down under the shelters of thinly scattered dogwoods and short conifers, lit a small fire and huddled together to bite on some jerky.

Sleep was heavy on Carl's eyes. As he reclined, his dimming senses could hear the young Sentinels pressed against each other into a bunch on the other side. They nattered about mafia rings in murmurs.

"How did this mafia thing start anyway?"

"Firstly, where did it all start?"

"Tariq-Tazar."

"Tariq-Tazar?"

"Yeah, they say almost everyone in that country is a criminal, almost everyone has a foot hanging down the stairs?"

"But how?"

"It is said when a foreign monarch from the North continent invaded Tariq-Tazar, the rich merchants there began to muster bands of men to fight the army who'd come to collect taxes. Once the country became independent, these band members organised themselves and started to make money in illegal ways... the protectors became predators."

The voices faded away. Even in the silence, Carl could not keep his mind off the voices. He remembered his first encounter with the mafia ring, he was probably twenty then. The faces were fuzzy but the fear for them was still raw. Eventually, he had begun to picture Aud Bigge in the back of his mind, chomping the corn like a horse and grinning like a fool.

What would he be like now in his real form as a member of mafia?

What would he do when he saw him again?

All of a sudden he was riffled by a thought.

If Aud Bigge saw him, he would come to know this to be a ruse to capture his ring.

No. He would not. Carl had never told him he was an officer. He could just tell him that he had lied like he himself had.

Carl broke into a slighting laugh. Aud Bigge would have no idea what was coming for him...

A chilled wind blew across him making him jump. He was wide awake. It was dark around. The fire had gone out and the moonlight was dull in the sky. Carl peered into the murk to make out the outlines of boys sprawled over the ground, deep in sleep. Lamont was seated close to the smoking ambers and dozing. He could not see Rhett. Peering harder, he made out the figure curled into deep slumber far behind, under the shade of a dogwood tree.

Lamont stirred in his sleep to the rustle of grass as Carl crawled toward the embers. The man did not open his eyes but raised his hand to take a sip from the mull decanter and then went back to doze. Carl tossed some firewood from the stock and blew the embers. The fire leaped into life and the instant warmth put him back to sleep immediately.